“Indeed!”

“Let me lend you something to read while you’re waiting.”

“You’re very kind.  But I’ve had nothing to eat.  Would you mind if I took it out with me?”

“Delighted!  What do you say to Locke’s Human Understanding?” he asked, as he produced a book.

“Thank you very much.”

“Or here’s Butler’s Anatomy of Melancholy.”

“But—­”

“Or ’Obbes’s Leviathan,” he suggested, producing a third volume.

“Thank you, but Locke will do to begin upon.”

“Ask me to explain anything you don’t understand,” he urged.

“I won’t fail to,” she replied, at which Mr Napper took his leave.

Mavis went to a neighbouring tea-shop, where she obtained the food of which she was in need.  When she returned to Mr Keating’s office, she was shown into the inner room by Vincent, who shut the door as he left her.  She was still a prey to anxiety, and succeeded in convincing herself how comparatively happy she would be if only she could get back her stolen goods.  To distract her thoughts from her present trouble, she tried to be interested in the opening chapter of the work that Mr Napper had lent her.  But it proved too formidable in her present state of mind.  She would read a passage, to find that it conveyed no meaning; she was more interested in the clock on the mantel-piece and wondering how long it would be before she got any news.  One peculiarity of Mr Napper’s book attracted her attention:  she saw that, whereas the first few pages were dog’s-eared and thumb-marked, the succeeding ones were as fresh as when they issued from the bookseller’s hands.

While she was thus waiting in suspense, she heard strange sounds coming from the office where Vincent worked.  She went to the door, to look through that part of it which was of glass.  She saw Vincent, who, so far as she could gather, was talking as if to an audience, the while he held an inkpot in one hand and the office cat in the other.  When he had finished talking, he caused these to vanish, at which he acknowledged the applause of an imaginary audience with repeated bows.  After another speech, he reproduced the cat and the inkpot, proceedings which led Mavis to think that the boy had conjuring aspirations.

Her heart beat quickly when Mr Napper re-entered the office.

“It’s all right!” he hastened to assure her.  “You’re to come off with me to the station to identify your property.”

Mavis thanked him heartfully when she learned that the police, having received a further complaint of the house where she had spent the night, had obtained a warrant and promptly raided the place, with the result that her bag (with other missing property) had been recovered.  As they walked in the direction of the station, Mr. Napper asked her how she had got on with Locke’s Human Understanding.  Upon her replying that it was rather too much for her just then, he said: